


For Practice

by Sara_Lillian



Category: The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern
Genre: F/M, Inspired by The Night Circus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 11:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4786517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara_Lillian/pseuds/Sara_Lillian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Is this your card?" She says with a raise of an eyebrow.<br/>The man looks back at the card; "The Magician" it reads. He laughs and thinks 'of course'. <br/>Now it is his turn to show off.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Practice

A man sits at a small table in a secluded corner of a café. As patrons around him speak in hushed tones, he slowly sips his hot tea, so as to delay his departure from the warmth of the café back into the cold rainy day that lies just beyond the doors. In front of him lies a deck of tarot cards and he flips through them without touching them, rather manipulating them with his mind instead, constantly practicing his magic even on one of his rare free days. 

The door of the café opens with the ringing of a bell and he looks up in spite of himself. A woman with long brown curls and a black jacket is entering. She removes the jacket and folds it over her arm to reveal a grey dress that gives the impression of the dye being washed out of the fabric; his eyes seem to deceive him because he swears the color is actively moving down the dress. As she walks up to the counter her eyes catch the tarot cards on the man's table and she smiles to herself. She orders her drink and then meanders her way over to his table. 

"May I sit here?" She asks tentatively.

"Yes, yes of course." He replies, shifting his cards over to give her more room.

"Do you read them?" She asks, gesturing to the deck spread over the table. 

"No, I borrowed them from a friend for..." he trails off as if searching for the right word.

"For practice." She finishes for him. She reaches across the table and picks up a card at random. She then lays it on her palm and focuses on it. The card bursts into flames and crinkles in her hand. The man watches with intense interest as she takes the ashes in her palm and pours them back onto the table where they transform into the original tarot card. She breaks into a wide smile, like she wasn't sure if her trick would work or not. She presents the card to him with a flourish.

"Is this your card?" She says with a raise of an eyebrow.

The man looks back at the card; "The Magician" it reads. He laughs and thinks  _of course_. Now it is his turn to show off. 

She looks at him expectantly, both eyebrows raised now, waiting for him to speak.

He smiles a bit, "I take that as a challenge."

She sits up and smiles back. "As you should."

He stirs his tea, trying to decide what to show her. He settles on one of his signature tricks and looks up at her. She leans forward a bit, clearly intrigued. 

"Now, this has taken me years to perfect," he begins "and in those years I have come to realize that this is a trick best done outside."

The girl's chocolate brown eyes light up and she grabs his hand, pulling him up from the table, knocking over his chair in the process. He turns to pick it up but it is already back in place, although no one was around to have fixed it. His deck of cards has also found its way back into his pocket. The girl tugs on his hand and he follows her to the front of the café where he grabs his coat, bowler hat, and umbrella which she flicks her brown curls out from under her jacket.

He opens the door for her and gestures with his arm, "After you, Miss..." he falters, only just realizing he doesn't know the girl's name.

"Celia." She provides with a warm smile. "And you are?"

"Marco." he replies as they begin their walk down the empty sidewalk. Even though the rain had stopped a while back, it was still quite chilly and damp outside and there were very few people out and about.

"Where are we going exactly?" Celia asks curiously.

"Right here." Marco says, guiding Celia into a darkened alley where he practices this illusion. She turns to face Marco, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

"Trust me." He says, holding out his hand.

She pauses and thinks for a moment before taking it.

"Now close your eyes." He instructs and she obeys. Marco closes his eyes as well, putting all of his focus towards the illusion. A strong image appears in his mind and he tells Celia to open her eyes. Their eyes meet and she gasps. Their surrounding have changed from the alleyway to a beach at sunset. Celia looks at Marco with wonder on her face. 

"You're doing this to my mind, aren't you?"

"Only because you're letting me."

Celia's expression shifts to be more curious. 

"Can you make us be anywhere you want?" She asks.

"Oh yes," he responds enthusiastically "I've been practicing." 

As he speaks, the scene shifts again. The two of them are now standing in front of a giant castle, most likely somewhere in Ireland.

Celia, testing a theory, takes a few steps forward and puts her hand out to touch one of the walls. Surprisingly, her hand does not pass through the castle as she thought it would, but instead gets stopped by its rough surface. 

"How long can you keep this going?" She asks Marco. 

"The longest I've ever gone was three hours" He replies, seemingly proud of this fact. 

Celia looks towards him with a mischievous glint in her eyes and their surroundings flicker back to the alleyway where they began. 

"You resisted it," Marco says in amazement, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair, visibly flustered. "I've never met anyone who could do that before."

"I just wanted to see if I was able to, just for practice." She replies with a shrug. 

"I must be going now." She says suddenly, glancing at a pocket watch and moving past him towards the sidewalk. 

"Wait!" He says, and she glances back over her shoulder. "What if I wish to see you again?" 

Celia moves closer to him and grabs Marco's hand so his palm faces upwards. A small black card appears and she folds his fingers over it. 

"We will be here until Sunday. After that I don't know where we are going..." And with that she is off onto the still empty sidewalk. 

Marco opens his hand back up and inspects the card. Written in simple silver scripts are the words _"Le Cirque des Rêves"._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is something that I actually wrote a few years ago after I read The Night Circus for the first time but I never did anything with it so I figured I might as well post it on here! This is just my take on the scene where Marco meets Isobel except with Celia, who is already working at the circus. I'm not sure if I will continue this or not, we'll see!


End file.
